


Descending

by TobiasHawk1



Category: RWBY
Genre: Elevator Sex, F/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobiasHawk1/pseuds/TobiasHawk1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qrow and Winter know how to push each other's buttons. How long before they snap? Remember to R&R and remember, Zone-tan watches you fap!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Descending

Qrow sighed as he waited for the elevator to arrive, tucking his hands deep into his pants pockets. He was feeling the fatigue from the long day, having walked a few dozen miles to make it to Vale by morning, gotten drunk off Ironwood’s dollar by afternoon, and fought an old flame before sunset. Not one of his more exciting days, however the headache pressing against the inside of his skull reminded him how long it’d been since he’d had a proper drink. The elevator chimed its arrival, doors sliding open as he took his last swig of his favorite vodka from his personalized flask. He made she to drain it of every drop, deciding he’d rather get to be early to beat the hangover instead of walking to the nearest liquor store for his next drink.

“Gotta look good for the kids,” he laughed softly, clearing his throat of the burn from the vodka. He sluggishly ran through the motions of cleaning himself up, adjusting his collar, rings, belt and cape. The doors slid open just as he was combing his fingers through his hair. He narrowed his eyes, taking a few seconds to remember who it was trying to enter the elevator before it clicked, and a teasing smirk grew on his face.

“I’ll take the next one,” Winter said coldly, taking a step back from the doors.

“What’s the matter,  _Ice Queen?_ Afraid of little old me?” He could tell from her posture that he was already getting under her skin. The idea that she might not take the bait never even crossed his sluggish mind.

“I’m afraid of what I might do to you should you instigate another confrontation, and frankly, you should be too,” she snarled through grit teeth. Aegean blue eyes bored into rusty scarlet, waiting until the elevator doors finally started to slide close. Qrow waited until the last possible moment before lurching forward, catching the doors and shoving them open. Cocking his head at the woman, it took a moment for him to clear his mind enough to form the words he needed.

“What if I _instigated_ something else between us?” It was crude and crass, but he _knew_ Winter. More intimately than most. He knew which buttons to press, and how to speak to the heiress in order to get what he wanted.

“Qrow, you’re _drunk_ ,” she hissed, smelling the expensive alcohol on his breath. She instantly knew what he was doing, what he _wanted_ from her. Unfortunately that deduction wasn’t entirely accredited to her powers of perception, but to her experience with the man.

“I’m  _always_ drunk,” he chuckled back at her, mirroring the professor’s exasperated tone.

“I’m gay,” Winter supplied, her voice wavering at his closeness. She wanted him to _go._ She tried to tell herself she wasn’t interested in _him,_ or what he was offering.

“You’re also a shitty liar,” he countered, leaning his shoulder against the elevator door to keep them from closing. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, wide smirk on his face. The picture of absolute arrogance. He knew the game was to remain as composed as possible- despite her military training, Winter had _always_ been quick to anger.

“Do _not_ presume to know me, _Qrow,”_ she warned, instinctively falling into stance. The desire to wipe that ridiculous smirk off his face- to make him pay for his foolish arrogance- was just too enticing.

“I think I know you pretty well.  _Intimately,_ some would say-” She didn’t allow him to complete the word, her fist shooting towards his jaw. Drunk as he was, she managed to clip his chin with the punch before he sidestepped, grabbing her wrist and using her forward momentum to pull her off balance and into the elevator. She growled, crossing her arms in frustration at having played into his trap. Qrow simply held his hands up in an annoyingly innocent gesture.

“What’s the matter, Winter? You miss me that much,” he asked playfully, moving dangerously close to the woman. She always chose heels that _just_ raised her to his height, so he couldn’t talk down to her if he tried.

“No, I was _just_ beginning to picture how grand my life could be with you out of the picture. Drop out of contact in the field like that again I promise your life would be easier if you just didn’t come back home.” She hissed her warning at him as the elevator doors finally slid shut. Her temper was flaring, but she tried to hold it back, knowing that it’d burn her out if she allowed it to overwhelm her.

“Aw, you _did_ miss me,” he slurred, placing a hand against the wall behind her. “Were you really worried? Sorry, _concerned_ for me? You should know by now I’m resourceful.”

“Not the word I’d use,” she jabbed, turning to look away from him. The elevator ride was an unusually long one, from the top of the tower to the ground floor often took almost ten minutes. How the Headmaster was able to routinely be on time was unsettling.

“Describe me,” he offered, placing a finger underneath her chin and tilting her face to hold her gaze. He smirked when she finally rolled her eyes to look back at him, finally uncrossing her arms.

“You’re an annoyance,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Oh?” He pointed to himself, the smallest vestiges of a pout forming on his face.

“Irritating,” she rolled her eyes at him unimpressed by his feigned hurt.

“An immature, vulgar old man with the irrational idea that I could somehow be attracted to him.” Winter was well acquainted with Qrow as well, not above pushing _his_ buttons in the same way he was trying to push her own.

“ _Still_ be attracted to me,” he chuckled, leaning in closer to the woman.

“The elevator will reach ground floor any minute now,” she warned, trying to come up with any excuse as to why they _shouldn’t_ do what he was planning to do.

“Six by my count,” he responded, raising his eyebrows at her.

“There could be cameras-”

“Afraid he’ll tell dear old Jimmy,” Qrow pried deeper, luring her into a playful trap he knew she’d be unable to avoid.

“That’s _General_ to you, Branwen,” she corrected him, taking the bait that he’d so carefully laid before her.

“Remember when you used to call _me_ that?” Bringing up past experiences with her was usually enough to get her to surrender to new ones. Reminding her of just how often they’d used to share passionate moments together whenever they could was not only satisfying to his ego, but enough to convince her to have it it again just _one_ more time.

“I distinctly try my hardest to repress those memories,” she countered, her hands pressing against his chest to keep him just far enough away he wouldn’t get any ideas about _kissing_ her.

“Am I that hard to forget,” he chuckled, already knowing the answer to his rhetorical question.

“You were extraordinarily terrible if I recall correctly,” she retorted, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of a truthful answer.

“The stains in my sheets always told a different story,” Qrow recalled. Nights of passion between the two were always messy- one of their first rules had been that they’d only be spent on _his_ bed. Her sheets were far more expensive and difficult to replace.

“You disgust me,” Winter snarled, her last resort to upset him enough to make him _stop._

“Then why are you blushing?” He knew he had her cornered, back against the wall, she’d have to give in _eventually._ However they didn’t have that long, he pressed the issue until he knew she’d snap.

“It’s _warm_ in here,” she argued, not entirely a lie. Her racing pulse sent familiar warmth throughout her hips and thighs. She cursed herself for allowing him to so easily manipulate her into the situation, the last of her defenses against him crumbling away like the ruins of Mountain Glenn.

“Then maybe we should take this uniform off” Qrow was far too familiar with the Atlesian military uniform. Kneeling down he unzipped the fly, not bothering with any of the straps or buckles. Her underwear was a steel gray and easily pushed aside, revealing a neatly trimmed strip of soft ivory curls leading to his prize. He buried his face between her thighs, too pressed for time to worry about foreplay or teasing. Her breath hitched, hips rolling as he took his first few licks. Her eyes fluttered behind dark lashes, she combed her fingers through his hair and tugged him closer.

“If you’re good for _one_ thing, Branwen,” she muttered breathlessly. Even drunk, Qrow’s experience with her body was more than enough to satisfy. His tongue swirled around her clit, teasing the sensitive nub while he kissed at soft pink lips. He tasted musky arousal, a liquor sweeter than anything he could buy in a bottle. It was what he craved, what he was _truly_ addicted to. Her gripped her thighs, spreading them even wider apart as he buried himself deeper into humid warmth.

“You’re a despicable cretin… You- _Dust!_ You’re a flippant, insubordinate-” Winter’s spray of insults were cut short as Qrow’s fingers plunged deep into her quivering core. He sighed disappointedly- of his many pet peeves, one that upset him the most was when his lovers went quiet. Winter, as disciplined as she was, normally went stark quiet as she came close to her release, always far too afraid of the consequences of someone discovering them to let loose.

“An insubordinate _what,_ ” he asked, finally pulling away from her hips. Her legs were shaking, toned calves shuddering in their high-heeled boots. She tried to tug him back towards her crotch, back to work, but he pulled away, finally standing back up.

Winter chewed at her lip, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of her voice. She knew what he liked, the soundtrack of his lovemaking something that always turned him on as much as the services they provided him.

“Don’t make me _make_ you tell me,” he warned, pressing a kiss against her lips. The heiress returned the kiss, gloved hands wrapping around his throat.

“Just _shut up_ already,” she sighed, squeezing tightly in her attempt to quiet the man. Qrow responded by unzipping his pants, not bothering with the button or belt.

“Are you on the pill,” he asked, still able to speak in spite of her grip.

 _“She’d never learned how to choke properly,”_ he lamented.

“I’m nearly thirty years old of _course_ I’m on the pill you oaf.”

“I dunno, I figured with all the sex you _haven’t_ been having, you might’ve-” It was _her turn_ to silence him, biting at his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

“You have less than two minutes, Branwen.”

“One more than I’ll need.” Qrow plunged into humid warmth, burying his member deep. Winter whimpered softly, caught off guard by his sudden thrust. She quickly picked her legs up, wrapping her thighs around his waist, offering him a better angle. Qrow rolled his hips, bottoming out inside the Atlesian heiress. He knew how she preferred him- rough, fast and full of aggression. Her back against the wall, she rolled her hips in rhythm, her body quivering around his member. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, his length sliding deeper into her core. Her arms draped around his shoulders, she looked back into scarlet eyes gazing into her own. She blushed, rolling her eyes at the man.  
“Stop looking at me like that,” she gasped, her body instinctively clenching around his girth.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he mumbled, cool facade evaporating for just a moment before he rocked his hips against her again, holding himself there until she finally shuddered out a choked moan. Finally he gave her what she wanted, he pulled away and pumped his hips again, his rhythm quickly crescendoing. The lewd sounds of slick flesh sliding against quivering muscles filled the small elevator car, hastened breaths and stolen moans and grunts adding to the soundtrack.

Winter whined softly, burying her face into Qrow’s shoulder. She was close- oversensitive from nearly a year without any sexual activity. Clenching tighter around his member, she refused to allow herself to finish before him. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was still so receptive to his touch, even after so long apart.

“I know you’re close,” he whispered, hips changing angle and thrusting upwards. Winter’s surprised gasp was of an amazing pitch- the Schnee women had always been talented vocalists, and Winter was no exception. The head of his member buried deep, setting her nerves on fire. He kept up his relentless pace, one hand moving to her hair to repay her for her earlier tugging. He pulled her head to a sharp angle, freeing her to fill the elevator with melodic whines and gasps as he pistoned into her at his relentless pace.

Her orgasm was violent, it wracked through her body as roughly as his swollen member. Her spine arched, legs spasmed as she reached her climax, but Qrow wasn’t quite done with her yet. He pumped faster, her body still riding on the highs of the orgasm, she was far too sensitive for Qrow’s renewed vigor. She dragged her gloved fingertips down his back, clutching at his cape and tearing it askew as she fought to anchor herself against his pounding. Her toes curled in her boots, her legs shaking as he had his way with the most intimate aspects of her body.

Luckily, Qrow’s own orgasm came quickly. He chewed at his lip, making only a soft grunt as he reached his release. He watched her for a long time, seeing her ride the waves of afterglow until her eyes finally stopped fluttering behind her lashes. She cleared her throat pointedly, untangling her legs from around his waist as she demanded to be put down. On unsteady legs, she leaned against the narrow railing as she tried to catch her breath. Thankfully, Qrow was polite enough to assist her. After fixing her underwear, he zipped her pants back up, fixed the multiple straps and buttons of her uniform, and finally zipped up his own pants.

The elevator door opened just as he was pulling his hand away from his zipper. Professor Goodwitch and General Ironwood had been standing beside the elevator, gazing into each other’s eyes for who knows how long.

“General Ironwood, sir!” Winter quickly saluted her superior, newfound strength in her legs.

“Oh! Winter. I didn’t- we didn’t know you two were still here,” Glynda said nervously, looking pointedly at the General.

“It’s a popular elevator,” Qrow replied with a shrug and a smirk, leading the way out of the sliding doors and passed the two elders.

“You’re repulsive,” Winter whispered under her breath as she followed him out, already upset at the close call.

“I thought I was insubordinate,” he answered back, tucking his hands into his pockets. Winter rolled her eyes at him, her even pace matching Qrow’s.

“Same time tomorrow,” he asked curiously.

“Not even in your wildest imaginings.”

“Perfect.”

 


End file.
